Stephen Frech has published four volumes of poetry, most recently the chapbook Into Night's Tent (2020), and a mixed genre chapbook A Palace of Strangers Is No City (2011). He is also the translator of Menno Wigman's Zwart als kaviaar/Black as Caviar (2012). He is founder and editor of Oneiros Press, publisher of limited edition, letterpress poetry broadsides. Stephen Frech is Professor of English at Millikin University, where he helps run Blue Satellite Press and Sting & Honey Press.

Other poems by Stephen Frech in Verse Daily:
January 17, 2003:  "The Shelter in Children's Stories" "The lion borrows the thunder's roar..."

Books by Stephen Frech:

Other poems on the web by Stephen Frech:
"Third Shift at the Night Factory"
Two poems
Two poems

Stephen Frech's Website.

About Into Night's Tent:

"From the form and formlessness of the river to the slippery passages of memory to the brilliant sequence where sleep too becomes rivered, Stephen Frech's lyric poems dwell in the threshold between realms where we lose ourselves and dissolve into elegant chaos. Perhaps we most often come to poetry because we seek to be lifted across the borders of wonder. Into Night's Tent is a brief and potent carriage into the other-world, where the body is made strange and new by its permeability, 'a skin boat sailing toward luck.'"
—Jennifer Sweeney

"Into Night's Tent is a haunting world of dimly lit dreamscapes—in photographs, pools of water, little unseen ravines. It's a world where every little detail carries its darker twin within: the effortless gallop of horses becomes an enormous lifting, the safe harbor of sleep is also an insatiable longing for torpor. Even a body breaking into bloom is at once a promise and a crisis. These poems are terrifying, but beautiful and necessary. In time, Frech assures us 'the shattered pieces of light / reassemble on the current,' but not without slowing down a restless self that is always reflecting back. Into Night's Tent reminds us of the immense work necessary to recognize the moment for what we so often miss: 'the great and small gestures of being here.'"
—Nils Michals